I Can't Bear to Look
by Brandon
Summary: Post ep for Tithonus


TITLE: I Can't Bear to Look   
SPOILER WARNING: Tithonus   
RATING: PG   
CONTENT WARNING: ScullyAngst   
CLASSIFICATION: VA   
SUMMARY: Tithonus post-ep (more or less; actually it's a fill-in-the-blank, I guess).   


I Can't Bear to Look 

by Brandon D. Ray   


I can't bear to look. I've never been afraid to face the truth before, but now I can't bear to look. 

I consider myself to be a scientist, and when I was assigned by Kersh to work on the Fellig case I tried to approach it with the same standards of objectivity and detachment which I've grown accustomed to applying to every investigation. But this time it didn't work. This time it was different. 

One thing that was different, of course, was my partner. Instead of having Mulder by my side, providing insight, energy and, yes, companionship, I was told to work with someone else. Someone I didn't know and didn't trust. Someone I could not depend on. And that's how I wound up being shot. 

I shouldn't blame Agent Ritter; I really shouldn't. I know from firsthand experience how frustrating it can be to have your partner ditch you and go haring off on a lead without leaving so much as a word as to where he's going. In my own defense, I'll say that it had become abundantly clear that Ritter was more interested in making a collar than he was in finding the truth. Not that this mitigates the fact that I took off without proper backup. But MY behavior doesn't mitigate the fact that HE shot an unarmed suspect -- and hit a fellow agent in the bargain. 

Another thing that was different was that I became emotionally involved in the case. When it finally sunk in to me that Alfred Fellig really could do what he said he could do -- that he really could tell just by looking that someone was about to die -- I was outraged. Not at his ability, but at how he chose to use that ability. I could not believe the lack of compassion he had for the people around him. I could not understand how he could simply stand by and do nothing when he and only he knew that tragedy was only moments away. 

I think now I'm beginning to understand a little better, though, because it seems that I've inherited his ability. 

I didn't come to this knowledge right away. It's been a week since I regained consciousness in the recovery room, and I haven't had an inkling. But a moment ago Agent Ritter walked into my hospital room to apologize for almost killing me, and that's when I knew. 

That was literally only a moment ago, and he's still here. His features are pale and distraught, and the bags under his eyes indicate that he hasn't slept much recently. His voice is flat and without affect, and that alone would set alarm bells ringing in my head, even without Alfred Fellig's ability. This man, Agent Ritter, has the look of a potential suicide. 

And he's gray. 

I'm not speaking metaphorically; I don't mean that he's depressed or that his skin is pale and pasty looking. I mean quite literally that he's gray. 

He stands by my bedside and continues to speak to me in a low, lifeless voice. He's telling me how sorry he is; he's telling me how miserable he feels about the whole thing; he's telling me how he feels he let me down. But the words are just flowing around me; I can barely hear them. 

Because he's gray. 

And that means he's going to die. 

Soon. 

I don't know how I know this; I just know it. Oh, certainly it matches the description Fellig gave me of how his ability worked, but that alone would not be enough to persuade me. If all I had was Fellig's description I'd be able to discount it, and find some sensible, scientific explanation as to why this man standing next to my bed is rendered only in shades of gray. But somehow, deep down inside, I KNOW. 

Peyton Ritter is about to die. 

And that's not the worst of it -- and the fact that I can even think those words shows how rapidly I am coming to understand Alfred Fellig's detached lack of compassion. No, the worst of it is not that Agent Ritter is about to die -- after all, I barely know him, and what I do know about him I don't like. But what's truly frightening me is that in another moment or two Ritter will be through talking to me and he will turn and walk out of the room. 

And then Mulder will come back in. 

And I can't bear to look, for fear of what I might see. 

I can't bear to look.   
  


Fini 


End file.
